


Nostalgia

by hellosorry



Series: Harley Keener and Peter Parker rule the multiverse [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual!Peter, Europe, Fluff, Hiking, Homesickness, Italy, M/M, One-Shot, Peter's a Star Wars nerd, Road Trip, apparently nostalgia means homesickness in italian?, based off a prompt from an anon, but i kind of got off topic, but you could interpret it as friendship too, everyone's a bunch of sassy little #####, i think, if i think of anything else i'll keep you posted, im still using it as my title, its not that good, maybe dont trust me?, not that great but i'm still proud, nothing really happens romantically here, panromantic!Peter, so for all you platonic folk, so its still good to read, sorry - Freeform, tell them thank you, that's according to google translate tho so, thats all i've got sorry im bad at tags, this is supposed to be the start of a romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 15:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18995854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellosorry/pseuds/hellosorry
Summary: Tony sends Harley and Peter on a road trip around Europe, to "bond", because Tony's a anxious little #### and he worries that they're not going to get along. But they do, and they're great friends, and they have a little conversation while hiking up Dolomites, Italy. Based off an ask from anon-- https://donnaschaunamanon.tumblr.com/post/185189749966/i-heard-from-bumblebeeeeee-you-liked-parkner





	Nostalgia

**Author's Note:**

> Pure fluff and that's it!! Not really anything romantic though?? I'm establishing their first friendship (then eventual romance) for a longer fanfiction I'm planning. Sorry!!

“India.”

“Man, I wish, but my sister’s the linguist, not me. And aren’t there, like, a billion and three languages there?”

“More like 22 spoken, 13 written, and 720 dialects. Hmm. Sweden?”

“Okay, first off, how do you know that, and second off, isn’t Sweden one of the cold countries?”

“Umm, yeah, I guess. But. There’s this thing. Called summer.”

“#### summer.”

Italy was really pretty in the summer. The sunlight sprinkled on the craggy grey of Dolomites (Belluno, mountain range– there was a river on the West end of it, apparently, but neither Harley nor Peter had seen it yet), and a soft breeze brushed through Peter’s already-windswept hair. It blew it into his face, and he huffed angrily, rounding his lips in an attempt to fight the wind and blow it back up behind his ear. 

It didn’t work, obviously. Peter just needed a haircut.

“Isn’t summer your favorite season? I thought I heard that during those get-to-know-you games Mr. Stark had us play when we first met,” Peter responded with a failure of a breath in. 

Pollen was stupid and it needed to be abolished.

“#### you too,” Harley responded, with barely a backwards glance at Peter DYING. Honestly. Rude. 

But Peter still tried (and failed, again, because today seemed to be all about him failing, goshdarnit) to contain a smile. When all someone had to say was “#### you too,” that’s when you knew you got them beat. It was a fact. On the internet and everything. 

“Please don’t, I’m asexual.”

“You are? Hmm. I hadn’t noticed,” Harley said, gesturing at the black, grey, white and purple color scheme Peter was sporting.

“I’m panromantic, though. Just in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t. Thanks anyway.” 

“You’re welcome.”

Peter’s hands itched. For what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe his phone? Not that that would work, because Mr. Stark was ridiculously over-the-top and had set off a freaking EMP in their suitcases, because “technology might limit their ability to connect with each other in the real world.” And yeah, maybe Peter could (kind of, vaguely, not-really-at-all) see his point, but like. Peter missed Aunt May’s daily kitten emojis. 

“I miss home, Harley.”

Pebbles crunched beneath their boots (Harley’s were some bad### motorcycle things, and Peter’s were actual legit hiking boots that he had decorated to look like Chewbacca’s feet. Harley had made fun of them earlier and Peter had told him that he hoped he got blisters because everyone knows not to walk in motorcycle boots (even Peter. And he was kind of out of the loop of it all.)). They continued their trek upwards, towards the top of Fünffingerspitze, because boy was that fun to say and boy there was no way they were actual making it to the top. The ###### was what, almost 10,000 feet high? No way, Jose. Peter was Spider-Man, sure, but he wasn’t anything other than a fake athlete. Like a fake fan, but better, because nobody liked athletes.

Except for the horseback riders in the Olympics. Those guys were cool.

“Me too, Peter. Me. Too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Also, if you want to check me out on Tumblr, the link's right here! https://donnaschaunamanon.tumblr.com/


End file.
